Wulf
by eat-a-shoe
Summary: Brian/Dom werewolf slash. Dom is the alpha of his pack. He doesn't like discord between pack members, and it's becoming clear that Brian's arrival is creating too much friction with Vince. There's an old ritual used in werewolf packs to initiate new members and reaffirm status.


**Title: Wulf**

For full warnings, see my profile

Fandom: The Fast And The Furious, first movie

Pairing: Brian/Dom, canon compliant for Brian/Mia as in the first movie

Rating: M for parts posted here

Length: maybe around 20k total? 5k for this chapter

Disclaimer: no copyright infringement intended, I own nothing, I make no profit

Note on werewolves: Werewolves in this universe don't shape-shift, they don't transform during the full moon, there's no biting of other people to make them into werewolves. The wolf exists on a psychic or spirit level, in the mind's eye

Timeline: picks up the day after Brian's break-in at Hector's

Summary: Dom is the alpha of his pack. He doesn't like discord between pack members, and it's becoming clear that Brian's arrival is creating too much friction with Vince. There's an old ritual used in werewolf packs to initiate new members and reaffirm status…

**Part 1**

Vince's reflection stretches and warps along the quarter panel of the Supra as he sidles up behind Brian.

"How's it going, Spilner?"

Brian's kneeling, working on the edge of the wheel well with a hammer and dolly.

"Can't complain," Brian says. Vince is standing over him, feet planted wide, shoulders back, arms folded loose across his chest.

"That's right. You can't."

"Hey, Vince." Leon has straightened up from under the hood of the Duster he's working on. "How about you install the rally gauge on this like you been saying you're gonna."

"In a minute," Vince says.

Brian bends to search through some sheet metal clamps on the floor next to him. Vince moves off, taking a slow turn around the Supra, keeping his arms folded, giving her a slow once-over.

The radio drones from the back of the shop _You want me to forget…pretend we've never met…and I've tried and I've tried, but I haven't yet…_

"She's looking good," Vince says.

Brian tests along the metal of the wheel well with his thumb. He looks up again. Vince is loitering at the rear of the car, smiling, scratching his chin.

"Yeah," Vince says, like he's answering somebody. "You just better hope this car earns Dom his money back."

He comes around to stand behind Brian.

Brian can either ignore him or he can crane around to keep Vince in his eye line. He swaps the dolly he's using out for another one, takes up the hammer again. Lines the dolly up with the rim. Hammers the edge, easing the dolly along, _clink clink clink clink_. He stops to study the evenness of the metal.

"'Cause you really can't afford to choke again," Vince says, still right behind him.

"Vince." Letty's in the office doorway. "Come on."

"That's what you said though, right?" Vince says. "You can't lose again. That is what you said."

Brian puts the stuff down and gets up and goes to the workbench, mops his hands off.

"There something you need, man?" he says.

Vince leans back against the car, his wallet chain clanking off the metal.

"Why, you offering?" He grins, his eyes cold, looking Brian up and down. "Shit. Think I'm starting to see why you're so freaked about losing another race."

"_Vince_," Letty barks.

Jesse's rolled out from under the Jetta, he watches, sitting on the creeper, his arms draped loose over his knees.

"Naw, we're cool, we're cool," Vince says. "I'm just goofin around with him."

"I think you'd better take it easy," Brian says mildly. He could be giving directions to the beach.

Vince laughs, claps his hands together once, then pushes himself away from the car. He steps up to Brian, coming slowly into his space. "Did I hit a nerve or something?"

Brian finishes cleaning his hands off. He tucks the cloth in the back pocket of his jeans. He keeps his eyes locked with Vince's.

Vince is still all smiles. "I bet you know a few ways to make money, huh?" he says quietly. His gaze flickers, taking in Brian's face. He moves another step closer. "With those baby blues of yours? I bet you're real popular. You should cash in, man. I bet you suck cock a whole lot better than you drive–"

Brian's body seems to make the decision before his brain does and he's smashing Vince up the chin with an uppercut before the words are all out of him. Vince takes it pretty good, steps back with it, comes lunging back for him, throwing both of them to the ground, landing a punch to Brian's gut on the way down.

Brian can hear the others yelling. Him and Vince roll over and over in a tangle on the floor, hitting at each other, their wolves are crashing together, snarling ugly noise.

Vince lands a hit, shoves Brian back while he's off-balance and Brian goes into the tool chest. It makes a huge noise going over, the drawers smashing out onto the floor, disgorging trays of sockets, trays of wrenches, metal flashing spilling out.

Vince is on him, pins him, grabs him thick by the hair, whacks his skull back against the concrete.

"How you like that, you son of a bitch–"

Brian twists under him trying to buck him off. Vince keeps a hard hold, fingers fisted in his hair, smacks his head down again.

The impact's weird the second time, like Brian should feel it more but he doesn't. Somewhere he thinks about last night and getting clocked with the butt of Vince's shotgun, the scab on it felt okay when he checked this morning, felt like a pretty good bruise–

Someone's over Vince's shoulder, trying to haul him off. Brian sees a sweep of dark hair. Thinks it's Letty. A second later knows it's Mia.

She's not supposed to be here.

Vince is oblivious. He jerks his arm back to swing and his fist, his elbow, something, catches her in the face.

The little shocked noise she makes as she stumbles back registers unnaturally loud for Brian and then it's white noise from there. He's on top of Vince. No memory of how he got there. He's just wailing on him, almost mechanical about it. Vince's body jolts and spasms under him each time he hits him. It feels good. Their wolves are in a tangle. Bloodlust. He searching out a weak point to sink his teeth in—

Brian lands back in the moment as something big smacks into him from behind. He falls forward. A strong hand fists in the back of his shirt, another on his arm, and he's hauled up, thrown aside.

He hits the side of the Supra hard, sprawls, no time to recover before there's a heavy body on him, a big wolf's jaws around his wolf's throat. It's the work of a second. He's down. Dom's broad hand is clamped around his neck, choking him off.

Brian struggles, body and mind, even knowing instinctively there's no getting out from under this. He tries to pull in a breath and he can't. Dom's face is closed off, rigid with fury above him.

Brian thinks there's voices shouting. It's like hearing underwater.

It's reflexive to keep fighting it, but he's getting weak fast. He can't breathe. His hands grab at the solid muscle of Dom's arm. His wolf squirms on its back under Dom's. He can't breathe. He can't breathe.

There's only Dom. His presence dominates, blots everything else out. That deep, incessant snarling that sounds like murder coming down a tunnel for Brian. Brian can hear his own wolf underneath it, making noise that's so freaked out he almost can't believe it's him.

His lungs are starving. His face is aching horribly, capillaries in his cheeks throbbing with blood, even blinking hurts, like his eyelids are swollen.

His grip is loose on Dom's arm.

His wolf, in his mind's eye, still on its back thrashing, arching its head to give his neck into Dom's jaws, whatever Dom wants, just trying desperately over and over to transmit the same message–

_No threat. I submit. No threat. I submit._

The clamp of Dom's hand on his windpipe stays unyielding as a band of steel.

_What do you want me to do?_ The thought bubbles up in Brian's head, hopeless. Throb of blood in his ears. Black spotting his vision. He's going to pass out.

Dom jerks his hand away.

Brian sucks air and rolls onto his side and hacks and gulps, shoulders shaking, he chokes on air he's trying to gulp it down so fast.

The cement's cool and gritty against his burning cheek. His eyes are streaming. He coughs wet, hacking, breathes and breathes and coughs.

The sounds of the garage come back. Mia's voice.

"–said I'm _fine_! For Christ's sake, Dom!"

Brian forces himself to roll onto his back again, instinct telling him that's the safest place for him right now.

Dom's standing away from him.

The others are close. The vibe is bad all around. That too-quiet when people don't know what to do next. There's heavy breathing. Stink of anxiety coming off all of them. Brian can smell Mia's blood.

He chances a quick look. She's standing with Letty. Her hand is covering her mouth where she's bleeding.

"I'm fine," she says again, speaking quieter now. "It's just a split lip, Dom, okay? I'm fine."

Dom's fists are clenched, his shoulders rounded. He's like a bull, the power resonating from him looks just barely contained.

There's quiet. Just Brian's ragged huffing and a lot of quiet.

Dom looks down at him. His face is tight.

"Did you hit her?"

Brian gives a slight shake of his head. He puts his jaws together, swallows, breathes through his nose, trying to be quieter that way, his chest still heaving.

Dom's dark eyes move off him and it feels like the weight of a barbell being taken off his chest.

Dom turns slowly, rounding on Vince where he's crouched near the wreck of tools and the overturned chest. Vince is already holding up his hand, palm-out: _peace._

"It was an accident, Dom," Mia snaps.

"It just got outta hand, man," Vince says. "She came up behind me, I didn't see her."

Dom doesn't say anything. They're all watching him, waiting. After a moment he looks past Mia, to Letty.

"Go get her cleaned up."

"Dom–" Mia says.

Letty takes her by the arm and pulls her along. Mia tries to stop as they pass Brian. He doesn't lift his eyes to her, doesn't dare.

"Come on." Letty nudges her on. Brian listens to the scuff of their feet as they go into the back.

He tenses up as Dom looks down at him again.

"You need to be someplace else."

Brian blinks stupidly. He hears the words and he understands the command, but still he can't seem to come unfrozen. His wolf is telling him to keep small and flat to the ground, keep still.

"Now," Dom says.

Brian snaps out of it. He scrambles awkwardly into a sitting position, puts his hand on the side of the car to push himself up, his palm sweat-slick, squeaking on the metal.

"It wasn't even Brian started it, man." Jesse's voice is high-strung and wobbly.

"Chill, Jesse," Leon says.

Brian wipes at his face quickly with the back of his arm. He does his best to walk normally as he passes Dom, keeps his eyes down, goes blinking out into the light of the yard. He climbs up into Harry's truck and gets the engine going and pulls out.

The radio comes on with the engine but he doesn't hear it until he's a good mile down the strip. He puts his hand up to rub his neck. The skin is hot and tender. His hand is shaking. He grips the bow of the steering wheel and keeps driving.

OOOOO

He pulls in at Harry's. He's driven himself there on autopilot. He sits with the engine idling, finally cuts it. His t-shirt's sticking to him with sweat. He wipes his forehead and mouth on the sleeve and then gets out the truck.

He's almost at the front entrance before he catches sight of himself in the glass and pulls up short. He's a mess. Second time he's shown up to Harry's looking like this—but this time he's got blood dried on the back his neck. He hadn't noticed. He feels the back of his head where the hair is sticky. His fingers come away with blood on them.

A guy comes out of the store and Brian drops his hand quickly. He recognizes the guy, one of Hector's, and more behind him. Brian turns and makes to go round the side of the store.

"Hey yo, Brian," someone shouts after him.

He stops. Looks back. Hector's spotted him.

"What's up, man."

"Shit, homes." Hector looks him over. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing, it's cool." Brian wipes at the side of his neck and immediately regrets it, wipes his hand on the seat of his pants.

Hector's crew gather out on the sidewalk. A few of them move off to lean against their cars, throwing Brian speculative looks.

"You in trouble, man?" Hector says quietly. His eyes flicker past Brian's shoulder, squinting against the sun. "You want one of my guys to run you over to Dominic's?"

"Nah, I'm good," Brian says stiffly. "Thanks."

The door opens and a couple of Harry's guys come out wheeling a pallet truck between them loaded high with gear. Harry holds the door behind them. His eyes settle on Brian and his face goes slack.

"Harry, sorry," Brian says before he can get the wrong idea, "I was going to go round the back."

"What—what's going on?" Harry glances around at Hector's guys, back at Brian, he reaches blindly behind him for the doorframe, telegraphing his unease.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'll go get cleaned up," Brian says, talking fast. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "I was just heading round back now."

"Yeah… Yeah, well" Harry catches on belatedly and takes a second to shift gears. "You can't show up here looking like this." He nods towards Hector. "Customers don't need to be seeing this. You represent me. What the hell are you trying to do?"

Brian shifts his weight like he's embarrassed. "I'll get cleaned up."

"I don't want to see you in the front until you do," Harry says. He shakes his head and walks quickly back into the store.

"Shit," Hector grunts. "You aint catchin a break today, huh, homes?"

Brian shrugs, playing it off.

Harry's guys are unloading the trolley, passing parts off onto Hector's boys.

Hector rubs his hands together contemplatively. "You gotta work? I mean, you wanna come for a drink? We got our parts, we celebrating."

Brian cracks a smile. "Nah, I can't. Can't do it."

"You can't do it?"

"I need this job, man."

Hector bobs his head. "Alright."

They clap hands, Brian covers his surprise as Hector pulls him in, slaps him once on the back.

OOOOO

He leans over the sink in the back room washing his face, the dried blood on his neck. He bends and greedily sucks down handfuls of water. He wets a towel and mops gingerly at the back of his skull, has a feel with his fingers and decides it's not bad, just the scab opened up, it's not bleeding much now.

He checks out his neck in the mirror. The imprints left by Dom's fingers and thumb are red either side of his throat. He braces his hands on the edge of the sink and looks himself in the eye. His face is still dripping water. He draws in a slow breath, releases it, blowing out his cheeks. He wonders if he's just fucked everything up.

OOOOO

He doesn't check in with Tanner the next morning like he knows he should.

Harry shows up at eight, doesn't ask him about anything, doesn't want to know, just hands off a list of parts for the day. Brian helps open up like usual, does the shutters on the display cases, shoots the shit with one of Harry's guys while they boot up the computers.

He spends a half hour loading up the truck in the alley. A lorry pulls up in front of the store as he's finishing and soon after Harry appears at the mouth of the alley, taps his clipboard on the truck's wing mirror.

"A lot of this stuff just come in is for Toretto."

"I'll come back for it," Brian says.

OOOOO

He's checking in the rearview all morning, half-expecting Tanner to flag him down, kind of hoping for it, but it doesn't happen.

Three o'clock he's back at Harry's for the second load. He drags his feet making the last deliveries, edgy the whole time, shifting in his seat while he drives, tapping his thumb on the wheel, checking and re-checking the time, wondering how long he should leave things.

It's four when he finally works his way round to the garage.

He sweeps a quick glance around the yard as he pulls in. No sign of Dom's car. He gets out and goes round the back of the truck, takes the tailgate down. He pulls out what looks like a supercharger, swaddled in bubble wrap, and heads for the bay doors with it under his arm, clipboard in hand.

Leon's leaning against the Duster, mopping grease off his hands.

"You done for the day?"

Brian nods. "Another order came in for you guys."

"Oh yeah?" Leon comes out to sign for it. He glances at Brian's neck as he hands the clipboard back.

"Where do you want it?" Brian says.

"Ah, it's all Jesse's shit. Dump it over here."

Brian puts the package down on the bench by the Jetta and heads back out to the truck. Leon comes with him, opens his hands, signaling for Brian to pass him something. They work together in silence unloading the lot.

"This stuff come from Europe?" Leon says, reading off a label.

"Looks like it."

Brian finds his eyes drawn to the doorway of Dom's office. It's quiet in the shop apart from the radio. He wants to ask Leon where everyone's at. He sets down the package he's carrying and goes back out into the yard. There's only a set of struts left. Him and Leon lift the container down between them.

"You know, that stuff with Vince and Mia," Leon says, out the blue as they're walking it back. "Been going on since they were kids."

Brian checks over his shoulder so he won't catch his foot.

"Oh yeah?" he says, his voice flat.

"You been in a pack before?" Leon says. They squat and put the box down.

Brian straightens up and rubs his elbow. Leon feels his pockets for his cigarettes. They stand looking at the pile of gear.

"You just come right out and ask something like that?" Brian says.

"What, you all old school about that shit?"

Brian goes to close up the truck. Leon follows after him, hands cupped to his mouth as he snaps his lighter.

Brian leans into the bed of the truck, catching up stray bits of tape and plastic, clearing them aside.

"I don't know how you do things," Leon says, "you personally. But in this pack here? We got our own ways. You might want to try harder to blend, know what I'm sayin?"

Brian closes up the tailgate.

"I owe Dom," he says, looking the truck over. "I'm here until he says I'm paid up. I'm not trying to make any shit for him."

"And Mia?"

Brian looks out across the yard.

"You go against Dom over Mia, he'll rip your throat out."

"Dom tells me to stay away, I'll stay away," Brian says tersely.

Leon nods, pulls on his cigarette. He looks sideways at Brian. "So you have been in a pack before."

There's a rumble of a performance engine and moments later Letty's Silvia swings into the yard, dust kicking up off the gravel under the tires.

"I was starting to think you guys had eloped," Leon calls as Letty and Jesse climb out. Brian finds himself looking the car over warily, but there's no sign of Vince.

Letty nudges the driver door closed, her eyes unreadable behind her shades as she looks Brian's way. She heads into the garage.

"Hey, Brian." Jesse's laden down with three burgers wrapped in grease paper, two fries and two large soda. He deposits the lot on the workbench by the door, turns and feigns tossing one of the burgers Leon's way.

"Head's up."

"'Ey, no, easy with the goods." Leon moves quick, crossing the yard and swiping the burger off him.

"What's all this?" Letty says, hunkering down to look through the stack of packages.

"Delivery came in," Leon says.

"My charge cooler better be in here, I've been waiting three goddamn months." Letty holds up a package, scrutinizing the label. "Jesse, man, you're gonna cream yourself."

Brian goes to lean in the doorway, folding his arms. He watches as Letty and Jesse start tearing into the gear.

"So," Letty says casually, glancing up at Brian. "Puppy came back, huh?"

Leon cracks up at that, he's just taken a bite of burger and he puts his fist to his mouth and turns away.

"What'd you call me?" Brian says.

Letty stays crouched with the package, runs her tongue over her teeth, fighting off a grin.

"Aw man," Jesse breathes, "this is…a thing of beauty, just look at that crankshaft, look at it." He lifts the part reverently out of its wrapping like he's just unearthed a holy artifact.

Another car rolls up in the yard. Brian straightens and turns sharply, relaxes some as he sees it's Mia's blue Integra.

The garage goes noticeably quiet behind Brian. He watches as Mia gets out. She's wearing a short summer dress, her hair loose. Her top lip's swollen up, the split small and red. She takes her sunglasses off as she comes around the car, stops in front of Brian.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She glances past his shoulder, then back at him.

"Can I talk to you?"

Brian goes into the yard with her. They stand over by the truck.

"Are you okay?" she says.

"Yeah." Brian brushes his knuckle under her chin, looking at her lip. "How about you?"

She pushes his hand away and tucks her hair behind her ear.

"So," she says, trying for easy, "are we were still on for tonight?"

"Tonight." Brian drops his head, his neck aching a little with the sudden movement. "Uh." He looks at her again, trying to think of the best way to do this.

"Yeah," Mia says. "Jesus. Okay." She's expecting it, doesn't make her any less pissed off. She smiles mirthlessly, shaking her head. "_This_ is why I don't date my brother's friends. Always the same shit."

"I just think—" Brian reaches for her wrist. "Maybe if we waited…"

"I get it." She turns away and starts back to her car.

"Mia."

"I'll see you around, Brian." She climbs in, pulling the door shut after her with a crisp clunk.

Brian steps back as she reverses out. He stands looking for a while after she's gone.

He goes back into the garage and Letty and Jesse are still kneeling on the floor sorting through parts, their heads bent, a little too studied about it.

Leon's sitting on the workbench eating. Brian catches his eye as he passes.

None of them venture to comment, which Brian's grateful for. He picks up a tool tray. All the mess from yesterday has been cleaned away like it never happened, the tool chest standing back neat against the far wall.

Brian goes and squats down next to the Supra, letting out a quiet breath as he takes a look at the big dent in the door.

OOOOO

He's on his back under the car when Dom gets in. He hears his car in the yard, the sound of the car door, Dom's tread on the gravel.

He very determinedly keeps working his socket wrench, turning the bolts on the transmission pan. He doesn't give into the nervous impulse telling him to get out from under the car immediately. The hairs on his arms are standing on end, he's got gooseflesh all of a sudden.

"Rest of the parts came," Letty calls from the yard.

"So I see," Dom says, his voice close.

Brian finishes tightening up the last mounting bolt, his hands seeming clumsy all of a sudden. He slides out from under the car. Dom is standing nearby, a can of soda in his hand, his outline bold against the orange sky out the doorway.

"Putting the pan back on?"

"Yup." Brian drops his wrench in the socket tray.

Dom nods. He gestures towards the office with his can. "Let's go in the back."

He stands waiting while Brian sits up on the creeper, cleans off his hands. He leads the way into the office, goes and leans against the desk, resting his soda can on his knee.

"You gonna come in?" he says, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

Brian blinks, realises he's stopped just inside the doorway. On some level, his wolf is still warning him to mind his proximity after yesterday.

He steps inside the room, ducking his head to cover his embarrassment.

"Hector told me he ran into you outside of Harry's," Dom says.

Brian nods.

"Harry chew you out?"

"Uh, yeah, some," Brian says. There's a pause where Dom doesn't say anything, just watches him. Brian folds his arms to keep from moving his hands around restlessly. "I don't think I'm exactly making a great impression on him."

Dom tilts his head. "He still ain't fired you."

"Right." Brian offers up a smile, looking up at Dom from under his brows, meeting his eye, finally finding the nerve.

Another pause. They consider one another.

"Let me take a look at that," Dom says at last, his eyes on Brian's neck.

"It's fine, man."

"I'd like to take a look."

Brian shifts his weight between his feet, then shrugs. "Guess I'm not gonna stop you."

He stands immobile as Dom puts his soda down, pushes himself off the desk, comes towards him.

Dom touches his throat carefully, with both hands, his fingers light, cool from the cold soda can.

"Hurt?" Dom says.

"Nah."

Dom looks at the bruising some more.

"I can't have any more of this shit with you and Vince," he says quietly, stepping back.

"I'm not the one with the problem."

"Oh really?" Dom raises his eyebrows. "You want a place around here?" He indicates himself, the office, the garage. "It's your problem."

Brian's mind goes blank. He opens his mouth, closes it again.

Dom turns to get his soda. He takes a slow swig, his eyes hooded as he continues to regard Brian.

"That shut you up," he says at length.

"If you want me to talk to Vince–"

"I don't want you to talk to Vince." Dom turns away, his back to Brian, he seems to be considering the chaos of papers stuck up on the marker board behind the desk. "You know, I've been debating what to do with you."

"Is that right," Brian says, as unaffected as he can manage.

"Yeah."

"You make a decision?"

Dom rubs his hand over the back of his head. He moves slowly around to face Brian.

"Where's your home?"

"What?"

"Simple question."

"You want an address?" Brian huffs a quick breath of laughter. "Or, what, like some philosophical bullshit answer? Come on, man."

"Where's your _home_, Brian? Where are your people?"

"I do alright on my own."

Dom's gaze is steady, for a moment it's like he's stripping through Brian, like he knows the whole deal, everything, like he's known what Brian was from the start.

It's suicide, letting paranoia like that in, in a moment like this. Tanner's warned him—mirrors reflected in mirrors.

"I'm not trying to make trouble for you," Brian says, recovering his footing. "You know I'm an earner. I'll win you your money back."

Dom's still not saying anything.

Brian gestures over his shoulder. "I'll go down to Riverside tonight, they've been saying at Harry's there's a race on."

"Whose car do you plan on driving?"

"You'd have to lend me one—" Brian falters. There's a glint in Dom's eye that could be amusement, or something else.

"Do you think I'm cutting you loose?" Dom says.

Brian shrugs, doing everything to project a relaxed demeanor, like he's unconcerned either way. His heart's thumping. The situation's slipped out of his grasp at some point, probably when he set foot in the office.

"Shrug your shoulders, that's all you've gotta say?" Dom imitates him, throwing out his chest a little, hands open at his sides, the whole pose radiating _I could give a shit._

"You put me in a race, I'll win for you," Brian says solemnly, allowing some of the frustration and mounting desperation he's feeling to come into his voice.

"This aint about racing, it aint about the money. I want to know what you want."

"I don't want anything," Brian says at once, reflexively. Dom presses his lips in a line of displeasure, shaking his head slowly. He points at Brian, at his chest.

"Don't bullshit me. You think I can't read him?" _Him_. He means the wolf.

Brian feels himself flush hot. His mind works furiously, trying to find the right thing to say, the thing Dom wants to hear. Dom just watches him, waits.

"I know what you want," Dom says finally. "Wolf doesn't lie."

Brian swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. He wants to move away from Dom, retreat a step, put some space between them.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says.

Dom's dark eyes flash dangerously, his mouth twisting down. "Fine." He nods past Brian's shoulder. "Go finish up that transmission. Have it done by closing." He turns his back on Brian, dismissing him.

Brian loosens out of his stiff stance in surprise. "What, is that it?"

Dom turns back around, bringing his face close to Brian's. "You're here to work in the shop? Go work in the shop."

Brian doesn't move.

"One thing I can't stand, it's bullshit," Dom says. "You be real with me or you go get back to work."

"If this—if it's about Mia, I'd never hurt her." Something clutches in Brian's chest saying it. "What you're doing, trusting me, I never—" Brian cuts himself off.

"What?" Dom comes towards him.

"Nothing."

"Say what you were gonna say." Dom's wolf is suddenly there, large and still, appearing at the edge of Brian's awareness. It catches Brian off-guard and his wolf startles, crouching back. It happens fast before he can cover it.

Brian turns his head aside in embarrassment. "Sorry," he mutters.

When he chances a look again, Dom's studying him, his expression softened.

"Can't say I blame you," Dom murmurs. The wolf is gone, and Brian is alone again. Dom's not the kind of guy to make a big deal of it, and he moves past Brian, goes to the door. "Come on," he says quietly, all the heat gone out of him. "I want to show you something."

OOOOO

He takes Brian to the house, to see the Charger.

He drops him back at the garage after, as evening's coming on. They've gone most of the drive in silence, Brian staring unseeing out the window as houses and streets slide by, his thoughts still back at the garage, still with the black terrible lurking presence of the Charger, the newspaper cuttings of Dom's father on the wall.

They pull into the yard and Dom brings the car around, parks and turns the engine off. The car ticks softly and Brian pulls off his seatbelt and then sits and doesn't get out.

"The way this thing works," Dom says quietly, looking ahead, his hands curled loose on the steering wheel "you gotta come to me. If that's what you're still looking for." He passes his hand down the bow of the wheel, rests his arm on the doorframe. "You know about me now."

Brian's breath's coming thin, his chest feels too-tight. Dom looks ahead, impassive.

"You understand what I'm saying, Brian?"

Brian goes to where he's parked Harry's truck and gets in. He rumbles out the gate, looking back in the rearview mirror at Dom's car still parked behind, lamp light awash across the windshield so he can't make out Dom through the glass.

OOOOO

**Author Note:** thank you for the kind comments on this fic, I've decided to archive it at my LiveJournal instead of here on FF, the link is in my author profile.


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